The Name Game
by doe-eyed llama
Summary: "Percy Jackson, we are not naming our son Jackson Jackson." "But we could call him Jack-Jack, like from The Incredibles!" / In which Percy and Annabeth decide on baby names, and Percy turns out to be no help. Post-Giant war.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: this is post-giant war, but the entirety of this was written before boo was even released. so, the only discrepancy is that percy and annabeth aren't in new rome, but their ages are left ambiguous anyway, so they're back in new york. (personally, i think they both would've stayed in new york anyway because 1) percy staying with sally and paul 2) annabeth remodeling olympus 3) camp half-blood, duh. but i digress.) also, i obviously don't own pjo. (are disclaimers still a thing?)**

* * *

It's two in the morning when Percy and Annabeth make the spontaneous decision to break out the baby books Percy's mom had gotten them as a wedding present. ("I expect strong, healthy grandbabies for me and Paul to look after, okay?" " _Mom._ "). They didn't expect to succumb to the books so soon, but The Date was creeping up on them, and they couldn't just name their child No Name, Blank, or even Numero Uno, despite how cool of a name Percy think it is.

They turn on the lamp on their bedside table and let the television softly buzz in the background. Annabeth fishes out her reading glasses from a drawer, and Percy adjusts their pillows. No reason to put yourself through such hard work without being comfy first, right?

They crack open the first book around 2:10 and fly through the pages. Annabeth closes it shut around 2:13.

"That was a horrible one," Annabeth mutters. "I'm not going to name my child Mary Jane or Jane Marie or any variation of that."

Percy wraps an arm around her shoulders, and attempts to stifle a yawn as he replies, "I didn't like any of the guy names either." Percy and Annabeth, the natural risk takers they are, decided _not_ to know the sex of their baby until the child was delivered. Obviously, this means double the work in terms of names, unless they pick a gender neutral one, but they like to live on the wild side. Until then, their baby is going to be a surprise. And it'd be a surprise if they could choose a name before The Date as well.

Handing Annabeth the next book, this one adorned with floral print and creepy pictures of smiling babies, Percy yawns again and rests his head on top of Annabeth's. He hears her grunt, but she doesn't do anything to push him off, so he stays and tries to fight off sleep. It's hard, Percy realizes. Really hard. He's warm all around because of Annabeth and the blankets, it's dimly lit, there's slight background noise, and he can still smell a bit of the strawberry-scented shampoo Annabeth uses in her hair.

It's his favorite smell, strawberries. Right next to freshly baked blue cookies.

Both of them remind him of home.

"Are you even looking at the pages?" Annabeth asks, and Percy nods, lifting his head from hers and leaning in closer to the book. He still finds himself unconsciously closing his eyes, almost dozing off before he jerks himself awake. He needs something to keep his attention, and a book is definitely not going to do the job.

So, Percy stares at Annabeth.

Percy stares at the blonde curls spilling out of her ponytail and the little tuft he created on the top of her head from nodding against it, how carefully her eyes scan the pages of the baby books around them, at the swell of Annabeth's belly underneath the blanket, and the golden band around her ring finger shining in the dim light. He remembers his mom talking about the glow a women gave off when they were carrying a child, and Percy could see it. This faint, golden glow radiating off of her body. A heavenly sign of new beginnings, of what was yet to come.

"What are you staring at?" Annabeth questions, not taking her eyes of the book. She pushes back the front of her reading glasses with her forefinger, and adjusts the blankets around her.

"You," Percy says simply.

Annabeth scrunches her face. "Why?"

Percy smiles, and pecks her nose. "Because you're beautiful."

Annabeth rolls her eyes and mutters, "Stare at the books, not me, Jackson." But he can see her eyes flickering, not as exact as before, her finger curling around the dog-eared page of the baby book, and a light blush dusting her cheeks.

Dog-eared? She must've liked something on there. Percy closes his eyes, rubs them with his hands, and opens them again. He focuses, actually. Really tries to make an attempt. The words on the page still blur for him slightly, but he sees names that might've been something like Dylan or Jackson.

Jackson.

What Percy thinks up is genius, so he excitedly tells Annabeth his idea.

"Percy Jackson," Annabeth says firmly, placing the book on her lap. "We are _not_ naming our son Jackson Jackson." She means business.

"But we could call him Jack-Jack!" Percy argues. "He'd be one of those super cool kids with the same name."

"He'll be made fun of," Annabeth replies like she couldn't believe Percy could say such a thing. It's a common tone she uses. She rolls her eyes, and picks up the book again.

"But Jack-Jack," Percy insists. "Jack Attack. Wacky Jack. Jack..." Percy pauses for a moment before continuing, "Something-That-Rhymes-With-Jack."

"Jackson Jackson is going to get teased more than Perseus Jackson."

Percy narrows his eyes, lifts the arm stretching across Annabeth's shoulders to cross it with his other arm.

Annbeth raises a brow. "It's the truth."

"Okay," Percy laments, but immediately perks up. "But what about for a daughter?"

Annabeth stares at him, her reading glasses halfway down the bridge of her nose. "First of all, it's still a no. Secondly, Jackson isn't conventionally a girl's name, Percy."

Percy shrugs and rests his head on the headboard. "We could be trendsetters."

Annabeth laughs louder than Percy had expected, and he loves how carefree she looks doing it. "Right, trendsetters. Tell me that in a few years."

* * *

They look at the books again a few nights later, and at five a.m—yet another ungodly hour. Percy ends up taking seven two-minute naps when he's sure that Annabeth is too enthralled in the pages to even notice him. It's a skill he's cultivated through countless amounts of boring high school classes, and the days when Annabeth taught him about the ancient Greek world.

"Percy, I think I found a good name. Hey, Percy. Earth to Barnacle Brains. Wake up."

Percy didn't know what she was talking about. He was totally awake the whole time. "Wha's da name Annabananabeth."

Annabeth looks at him strangely. "Annabananabeth?"

Did he _really_ say that? He blames the not-sleep he's in.

Percy tries to play it off as a joke. "We can name them Annabananabeth. That's pretty unique."

"I'll write that down." It's a good thing Annabeth has a sense of humor.

"What was the name you thought of?" Percy asks, rubbing his eyes.

Annabeth tells him the name, and Percy gapes.

"Richard? As in Richard Dare? As in 'The Biggest Dick Known to All Satyr-kind'?"

Annabeth purses her lips. "Okay. Not Richard. I don't know what I was thinking. It was the pregnancy talking."

Percy shakes his head. "You're going crazy, Annabeth. Grover would never forgive us. Coach Hedge wouldn't let us see his baby."

Annabeth narrows her eyes. "I may be a pregnant woman, but I can still kick your godsdamn ass with one hand tied behind my back, Jackson."

"You wanna bet?" The comeback comes quick like lightning and natural to Percy, like they're fifteen and messing around with swords and daggers and straw-filled dummies.

Annabeth stares him down, gray eyes darkening before she huffs and looks away. "Ask me again after I pee." And she pushes the blankets off and waddles off to the bathroom, feet hitting worn-out carpet.

"I'm gonna tell Rachel about the Richard thing!" Percy yells.

"I'll kill you!"

Percy pauses. "You already would've done that years ago if you wanted to!"

"You were the child of the prophecy, idiot! And ask Rachel for some baby names while you're at it!"

Percy opens his mouth to yell back something else, but he hears the door close and knows she can't hear him now. He sighs, reaches into the drawer of the bedside table, and moves his hand around blindly until he can feel the smooth surface of a drachma. It's cool in his palm as he takes his hand out.

"Mist," Percy says to himself. "Water... where can I find water?" He looks to his right once again, and he sees a half-empty glass of water resting on top of it. The bedside table is pure magic, he swears it. So, he throws the glass of water in the air, and suspends it. He focuses on dissolving it a bit, feeling a faint tug in his gut. He doesn't know what he's doing, actually, but he's thinking _mist mist mist_ , and soon enough, the air in front of him waves with moisture. How long he could do that for, Percy doesn't know. It doesn't take much out of him, but it's five in the morning and he's tired. Without coffee or food, his stamina isn't high.

He turns the notch on the lamp, making the room slightly brighter. That's enough light, right?

"Oh Iris, goddess of the Rainbow, please accept my offering." Thankfully, a rainbow appears, and Percy tosses the drachma in. The gods finally got their crap together. The coin flies in and disappears. He hears a slight ding, like the sound a payphone makes when a quarter is inserted.

"Rachel Elizabeth Dare." And he sees the redhead painting in large, wide strokes. Blocks of color are scattered on the canvas, and it's set next to a window. Percy can see the horizon peeking out behind emerald green curtains. Rachel has a cool room.

"Boo," he whispers. Rachel pauses mid-stroke, and her shoulders rise up in alarm.

"Did you know Annabeth thought Richard was a good name for our kid?"

Rachel twists around, a disgusted look on her face.

"My reaction exactly."

"Was it a joke? Please tell me it was a joke."

"I—"

"It was a joke," Rachel says firmly, crossing her arms, the paintbrush drawing a yellow line across her forearm.

Percy nods. "Also, do you have any suggestions for baby names?"

Rachel raises a brow and scoffs, turning back around to face her canvas. "You're asking a forever virgin for baby names?"

Percy opens his mouth and then closes it, like a fish. "Good point."

"I've always liked the name Cassandra," she says easily, swiping an arc of blue across a wave of purple. "And Claude, like Monet, you know?."

"Wasn't he the one who cut his ear off?"

"That was Van Gogh, Percy."

"Van Golf?"

"Van _Gogh_."

"... Did he play golf?" Percy kind of has to know.

"Go back to sleep, Percy." And Rachel is the one who cuts through the mist, ending the message with the back of her paintbrush. Percy makes sure to fully dissolve the water, expelling it throughout the room.

He hears a door open, and Annabeth call out, "Did she have any good names?"

Percy doesn't know how to respond without sounding stupid.

* * *

The Date is nearing, almost three weeks away. Percy and Annabeth decide to visit Camp Half-Blood for kicks. It's practically their second home, and their apartment can't nearly compare. Calling up the Gray Sisters is a very, _very_ bad idea they decide, as well as a general safety hazard, so they take to the streets, driving in Percy's car.

It takes about an hour to get to camp, give or take a few minutes depending on the traffic. Like most New Yorkers, however, Percy is a speed demon with tons of road rage bubbling within him. Only on the streets is it okay for him scream obscenities at every single driver near him. The stupid ones, at least.

"They're all so fucking stupid, Annabeth," Percy seethes, hands clutching tightly at the wheel.

Annabeth glances at Percy's knuckles in the corner of her eyes. It's best to agree with him when he's like this. "I know, Percy. I know."

When Percy revs up the engine after a light turns green, Annabeth holds on for her life, and swears she can feel their suitcases knocking against one another in the trunk. "Slow down, Percy."

"You slow down," Percy mutters.

Annabeth turns her head sharply. "Excuse me?"

Percy stomps his foot on the brakes, and stops the car abruptly. The seatbelt digs into Annabeth's chest and stomach, and she glares at Percy. "Ex- _cuse_ me?"

"Sorry, the car in front of us slowed down and started to pull over." Percy laughs nervously, running a hand through his hair. "I almost hit her. I think it's an old lady, or something."

"Oh," Annabeth says and looks at the car in front of her. "Okay." They wait for a few seconds, and when it looks like the car is about to seriously pull over, Percy presses his foot against the pedal and starts to go around her.

"Have a nice ride la—." And Percy stomps on the brakes again when he sees the car rounding about his right side. Apparently, the old woman changed her mind, deciding to turn when Percy's car is half-way around hers. "What the _fuck_."

It didn't make it any better that the old woman was taking her sweet time turning.

"That old _bitch_ , oh my gods. We could've died!"

Annabeth opens her mouth to say something like "No, we couldn't have. You would've dinged her left side" but Percy's angry honking disrupts her.

" _You_ could've died, Annabeth!"

She sighs, him saying this a common occurrence. "Percy—"

"What's taking her so long? It's like—" Percy honks again, rolls down his car window and yells, " _gooo_! Move faster! Don't you know you're dying? Gooo!"

"Percy!" Annabeth says, appalled.

"What? It's true! Look, she stopped." Percy moves his head toward the window again and yells, "Yeah, you heard me! And I'll scream it again."

He moves his head back in the car. He takes a deep breath. Annabeth presses a hand against her face and sighs deeply. Percy moves his head back outside.

"YOU! ARE! DY—" Percy freezes. He looks at the old, crusty looking creature behind the wheel. Then, he looks towards a very pregnant but mostly annoyed Annabeth. Back to the monster. Now, to the wife. "I'm sorry. Have a nice day, ma'am," he says quietly to the monster. Head back in car, appendages fully intact, and hands on the wheel, Percy drives away quickly.

About a minute after the incident, Annabeth says, "I'm actually really proud of you."

"Huh?"

"You know, you totally could've yelled at the poor, old lady for a full five minutes, but you didn't."

"Oh." At least, Percy hopes it was a lady, hopes he got the gender right.

Annabeth nods and reaches over to give Percy a peck on the cheek. When Percy hears a grunt, he realizes Annabeth can't reach, so he leans over a bit.

"Thanks."

"No problem," and he grins at her.

"Eyes on the road, Jackson."

"Sorry," Percy says absent-mindedly, hands back on the wheel and eyes staring straight ahead. "Can't stop looking at you."

Annabeth groans, and Percy smiles even wider. A few more miles, and they'd be back to where it all began..

* * *

 **AN: look, i'm alive! i've been writing this since goddamn 2014 and i was just stuck. there will most definitely be chapters added later, and i figured by posting this bit would make me want to work on it more. originally, it was going to be a huge one-shot, but oh well. don't forget to r &r or whatever. i feel like is so ancient now. hot dang.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: lmao? sup friends.**

* * *

It takes Percy and Annabeth a solid forty-eight minutes to arrive at Camp Half-Blood. Percy is still slightly pissed.

"We could've gotten here in forty," he grumbles, dragging a suitcase out of the trunk. He sets it down with a heavy clunk. "Even thirty-eight! But nooo. That stupid monster didn't know how to drive. You'd think in this day and time all monsters would have passed their driver's tests and deserve their licenses."

"Percy, you care about driving too much," Annabeth says as she takes out a backpack from the backseat. It has some basic demigod essentials in it, such as ambrosia and nectar, along with some snacks for when Annabeth got hungry. Even now, the cravings still come and go. On it are two pins: one of an owl with glasses, and the other of a fish with sunglasses. ("I thought you threw my cool fish dude pin away!")

She's had this backpack throughout most of her quests. Pregnancy is just another quest to Annabeth, really. And another one that she's going to survive and come out alive.

"Yeah, I know," Percy replies and takes out the other suitcase, closing the trunk by going on his tippy-toes and pulling it down with his chin.

"I could've done that," Annabeth points out.

Percy pauses and looks at her. Blinks. "But, you're pregnant."

"I'm pregnant, yes. Not disabled, Percy. I can still move my hands." To prove her point, she raises a hand and waves it. Classic jazz hands.

Percy's practically mystified, and still suspicious. "I'm still not letting you carry these suitcases."

Annabeth crosses her arms. "Fine. See you at camp." And she spins on her heel, walking away.

Percy watches her and yells, "See you at camp!" And turns, trudging through the soil the opposite direction.

"It's this way, you idiot!" Annabeth screams.

"I'm going the other way!"

"The sign right there says 'CAMP HALF-BLOOD THIS WAY' in Ancient Greek."

"It's lying! It lies!"

"Get over here, Percy!"

He groans dramatically, turns back around, and starts walking in Annabeth's direction. He stares at his car when he walks by it. Hopefully, the nymphs remembered to keep his car safe. And Peleus could always protect it, too.

"I'm gonna break my water by the time you get here! Move it!" And Annabeth pauses before yelling out, "Don't you know you're dying?"

Percy groans again.

* * *

Once they reach camp's borders, and pass through the looming arch above them, Percy feels invigorated and at peace at the same time. Safe, he feels safe. When he looks at Annabeth on his right, and the serene look on her face, he knows she feels the same as well.

They practically walk hand-in-hand, but their suitcases take up both of Percy's hands, so they're shoulder-to-shoulder, which counts for something, right?

Percy catches view of the Big House, still standing proudly after all these years. Pegasi fly in the sky, lava flows down the climbing wall, and demigods walk around everywhere—near the stables, in front of their cabins, by the armory. Some give Percy and Annabeth odd, inquisitive looks, as they head toward the Big House. Percy sees a son of Ares tap his older brother's shoulder and move his lips. Said older brother turns around and squints his eyes at Percy, trying to glare menacingly.

He sighs in relief. Nothing has changed.

Carefully steering himself and Annabeth—"I know where I'm going, you soggy lampshade!"—through groups of destructive demigods, they manage to reach the steps of the Big House without any mishaps.

"Chiron!" Percy shouts and smiles once his former mentor waves at him. He takes a step, jams his foot into the next stair, and falls. The suitcases follow his descent, still clutched in his hands.

"Timber," says Mr. D, his words heavy with indifference. He has yet to take his eyes off his game of pinochle, just in case Chiron pulled a fast one and won the game with a single card.

"Oh, my gods," Annabeth says. She walks up the stairs with care, one hand on the railing, and tries her best to avoid stepping on Percy's sprawled out figure. Fights the urge to nudge his stupid head with her foot.

Chiron rolls over to her with small smile, still in his wheelchair form. "Annabeth! Pleasure to see you again. I see Percy is the same, after all these years."

Annabeth nods, laughing a little. "Yeah, Percy's still..." She looks down at him and cocks her head to the side, noticing the drool slipping out of the corner of Percy's mouth. "I think he's unconscious."

Chiron laughs lightheartedly. "Reminds me of the first time he arrived at camp. Less bloody and traumatized, of course. And without the horn clasped in his fist."

Annabeth shakes her head. "At least it was admirable last time. Defeating the minotaur with your bare hands with no training? That's cool. But tripping over stairs? That's embarrassing." Annabeth almost adds _And to think I'm bearing his child_ , but figures that'd be a bit too much.

"I believe we're going to need some Ares kids to help us move Per—our friend Mr. Jackson to the infirmary."

The god clicks his tongue in distaste, placing his cards face-down. "Tch. Just when I was about to win, too."

Chiron places the cards that were in his hands on the table. A flush. "I win."

Mr. D angrily chugs down the rest of his Diet Coke and chucks the empty can at a nearby, unsuspecting satyr. "Don't expect me to not get the ones who have anger problems. If they drop Johnson a few times, its fine by me."

Annabeth opens her mouth to argue, but is cut off.

"C'mon, Anna Belle," Mr. D rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. "Its not like he has anything up there to save. Better for him to be carried off by stupid Ares kids than a pregnant demigod."

He stands up from his chair, walks down the stairs and towards the Ares cabin, already yelling at a select group.

"You know," Chiron starts out. "He does care for your well-being."

"He called me Anna Belle," Annabeth mutters. "After all of these years, you'd think he'd get some names right-"

"You would've wanted to carry Percy to the infirmary, correct?"

Annabeth stumbles over her words. "I—well. I would—I think so? Yes."

"Shouldn't someone in your condition avoid any heavy lifting?"

Annabeth falters. "Yes, of course. But..." She hesitates. Annabeth can't read the expression on Chiron's face and doesn't know what to say next. She can carry him anyway? That'd hurt the baby, she knew that. Couldn't bear to be without him for even a few minutes? She was worried about Percy, yes. Honestly, she was always worried about Percy. She just...

"You're very protective at the moment," Chiron notes. That jars Annabeth out of her thoughts. "Of yourself. The baby. Percy."

Annabeth nods slowly.

Chiron pauses before continuing. "I believe the reason why Dionysus doesn't call anyone by the right name is to avoid being attached. You understand that, don't you, Annabeth? Trying to avoid as many casualties as you can?"

Annabeth nods again, firmly this time. She understands.

"Death happens quick. To a demigod, even quicker. It's good to be on guard, Annabeth. You're a smart girl—of course, any student of mine would be. Especially a daughter of Athena." Chiron winks, and Annabeth chuckles. She remembers the reason why she thought of Chiron as her original father figure.

Chiron sobers up and places a hand on Annabeth's arm. "Just remember, this is the safest place for any demigod. You can relax here."

Annabeth breathes out slowly. Already the weight on her shoulders seem less heavy than before. She spends a few more minutes chatting with Chiron, watching two Ares boys carry Percy off to the infirmary, wincing when the lead Ares girl yells at them for hitting Percy's head on the side of the door on the way there.

"TURN HIS BODY, YOU DOLTS. T-U-R-N." Mr. D yells across the campus.

They get him in. Eventually.

* * *

Percy wakes up with a headache, which is a horrible way to wake up. Add that to graveyard breath and mysterious bumps on his forehead, Percy's morning has already turned to schist.

"Finally," he hears a voice breathe out. "Looks like Sleeping Beauty finally decided to wake up."

"I prefer to be called 'Ariel'," Percy manages to retort, a bit groggy. He cracks an eye open, and hazily makes out golden-yellow curls and grey eyes. His mind flashbacks to when he was twelve and beat-up and barely conscious, and when Annabeth was spoon-feeding him nectar, catching whatever dribbled out of his mouth with the spoon. A pretty embarrassing moment, but a happy one, too.

"You're unbelievable. I can't believe you knocked yourself out." Annabeth crosses her arms and huffs. "Well, actually I _can_ , but..."

The corners of Percy's lips quirk up. "What, no kiss?"

Annabeth scoffs. "Kill a monster, and then we'll talk."

Percy pouts, and Annabeth rolls her eyes. She gives him a kiss on the forehead and another one on the corner of his mouth. "I'm glad you're okay, though. I knew you were going to be alright, but I just don't know with you sometimes," Annabeth admits.

"Well," Percy says slowly, mulling what Annabeth said over. "I'm almost _always_ about to die so—"

"What's this about almost always dying?"

"Will!" Annabeth exclaims. "Great to see you, again."

Percy flops his head towards the doorway. "'Sup, Will."

Will hasn't really changed from the last time Percy saw him. He still looks like a stereotypical son of Apollo, but he seems taller to Percy, and more filled out. Or maybe that's because of the angle Percy is looking at him in.

Will acknowledges them with a nod and a smile. "Annabeth, still awesome as usual. Percy, still..." he trails off.

"It's okay," Percy says easily. "Whatever you're about to say, I'm sure I'll hear it from Annabeth a couple of times in the next few days."

"Percy!" Annabeth hisses.

"What? I'm just _saying_ that—OW." Percy clamps his hands over his ears, and Annabeth does the same.

"What," she utters, thoroughly spooked and freaked out, "was that."

"Ah, yes, that was me. Son of Apollo and all that. I whistle, they scream," Will jokes. "I had to get your attention, and I figured that'd be my best bet. Anyway, Percy, you're free to leave in the next fifteen minutes or so. No permanent head injury—"

"Good. He doesn't have any more brain cells to spare."

"Hey!"

"—or busted blood vessels. You basically just pulled a Jason, from the stories Nico has told me, at least. Take it easy, though. Wouldn't want you to get woozy during the day."

Percy opens his mouth to comment, but Annabeth quickly slaps her hand over it. Percy gives her a look like, _What did I do?_ Annabeth's eyebrows say, _Get over it_.

"Thanks for your help, Will. I'll make sure to drag Percy's butt out of here once those fifteen minutes are up," Annabeth assures. She tries to ignore Percy struggling underneath her palm. There are only so many of his unnecessary comments that she could withstand.

Will smiles big, showing off his perfectly white and straight teeth. "Sweet. I was hoping you were gonna say that. Nico and I were gonna walk to the dining pavilion together for lunch around 12:30. He actually eats balanced meals now, which is great."

Annabeth chuckles. "You better get going then, because it's 12:40, and I don't know if Nico appreciates tardiness."

Will pales. "Oh _gods_ , no."

"Bye, Will. Thanks again."

"Mmph," Percy states. Annabeth takes her hand off his mouth. "That means thank you."

Will gives them both shaky smiles before running out of the infirmary, muttering under his breath about how late he was. Once he's gone, Annabeth stands up from her chair and sits on Percy's bed. Percy moves his legs to make room for her. It's silent for a minute or two, but comfortable. The only thing that annoys Annabeth is the constant ticking of the clock, but she distracts herself by running a hand through Percy's hair. It's extremely calming, and Percy's hair is insanely soft.

Percy hums in contentment. Resting his arms beneath his head, Percy sighs and closes his eyes. "This is strangely relaxing."

"Tell me about it," Annabeth mumbles. They stay like that for a few more minutes, just enjoying the company of each other, until Percy breaks the silence.

"Does this mean Will is his type?" he wonders, staring at the ceiling.

Annabeth looks at him, amused, and says in a playful tone, "Are you _still_ obsessing over—"

"Hey!" Percy interjects as he tries to explain himself, getting up on his elbows. "I just don't understand what he meant. I still don't. And I don't think I ever will unless I, like, ask him or something. Do you think I can ask him? Or would that be too awkward—"

Annabeth interrupts him with a peck on the lips. "Stop worrying about it."

Percy blinks. "Was that my kiss?"

Annabeth pecks him on the lips again, moving away as soon as Percy turns his head to deepen the kiss. "Yes, it was. Your second one, actually. Stop thinking about it—that should be easy for you, right?"

Percy rolls his eyes, but complies. He rests his head back on the pillow, eyes closed, relishing the feeling of Annabeth stroking his hair.


End file.
